Changing priorities scupper hopes of ambitious reform

SOMEWHERE during the Intergovernmental Conference on EU reform, the script and priorities changed. What was originally conceived largely as an internal policy-developing exercise, notably in the area of defence, became overshadowed by the external pressures of a single currency and enlargement.

So it came as no surprise that meeting deadlines and keeping to timetables gradually assumed more importance than the actual substance of the reform.

For months, EU leaders had stressed that the IGC had to be concluded at Amsterdam – hence Dutch Prime Minister Wim Kok’s resolve to keep his fellow leaders’ noses to the grindstone until dawn was about to break.

In the end, agreement was reached, but largely through a mixture of exhaustion, frustration and prevarication.

Exhaustion because leaders such as German Chancellor Helmut Kohl with important national cabinet meetings in a few hours’ time were under pressure to get back home and turn their strained minds from EU to domestic business.

Frustration because Spanish tactics in spinning out the summit meeting for an extra hour eventually forced Madrid’s partners to make the unusual commitment that “a solution for the special case ofSpain will be found”, when rules on majority voting in the Council of Ministers are re-examined.

“Spain has always believed since it joined the Union that it should have the same number of votes as the four biggest members andnot two less. Madrid is also determined that the olive-oil alliance ofSpain, Italy and Greece should have enough votes to head off any unpalatable agricultural reforms,” explained one EU diplomat.

Prevarication because on one of the ostensible reasons for the IGC – to restructure the relationship between the Union and the mutual defence organisation the Western European Union – the EUcould agree on little more than some practical cooperation and coordination. This could well have been arranged without anIntergovernmental Conference and Union leaders eventually settled on reviewing their defence arrangements at yet another IGC to be held at an unspecified date in the future.

That outcome reflected – as much as anything else – the UK Labour government’s attachment, like that of its predecessor, to the transatlantic alliance and its fear of anything which might be seen as undermining NATO.

But the most glaring example of prevarication emerged over institutional reform.

Any attempt to refashion the delicate institutional balance in the Union, which tries to strike an equilibrium between national and supranational interests and between the concerns of smaller and larger member states, was always going to be fraught with difficulty.

So it proved, although some limited progress was made.

A small extension of majority voting in the Council of Ministers, wider legislative powers for the European Parliament, a ceiling of 700 MEPs even with enlargement of the Union eastwards and southwards, and a boost to the European Commission president’s prestige were all agreed.

So too was the general principle that with the next wave of enlargement, each member state would have just one Commissioner.

But the wording is open to different interpretations and is dependent on agreement on the number of votes each country will wield in the Council of Ministers – an issue which totally defied solution in Amsterdam. That battle will now need to be fought again in a few years’ time when the enlargement horizon is considerably closer.

So why did timetables, rather than the need to take difficult decisions now, eventually take priority in negotiators’ minds?

When the plan for an IGC starting in 1996 was written into the Maastricht Treaty almost six years ago, it was widely believed that economic and monetary union had a real chance of becoming a reality from the beginning of this year.

Those expectations were drastically wide of the mark. With economic targets proving harder to meet than anticipated, thestarting date for introducing the euro shifted to January 1999.

The delay moved the IGC goalposts and the overriding concern of EU governments became to avoid ratification of the new treaty coinciding with tough economic measures, the selection of the first wave of euro members and possibly national elections.

Agreement before this summer’s recess avoided such a constellation of hurdles. Any delay would not have.

The second pressure on the timetable was of the Union’s own making, stemming from the decision taken at the June 1994 Corfu summit and endorsed at subsequent meetings that enlargement negotiations would begin within six months of the end of the IGC.

In the minds of the applicants and of others, that signalled a January 1998 start to the talks.

To miss that date risked disappointing political leaders andgrass-roots opinion in central and eastern Europe, and projecting an image of a disorganised Union to the wider world.

A third factor was the wobbly nature of the Franco-German tandem. Instead of steering a straight path, the famous vehicle of EU integration was pulled in different directions as German Chancellor Helmut Kohl and French President Jacques Chirac tried to establish common ground.

Their task was made all the harder by domestic pressures. The Socialists’ surprise victory in France changed the country’s national agenda and restricted Chirac’s room for movement.

But the most revealing development of all was the growing need for Kohl to weigh up almost every EU initiative against domestic reaction.

No longer does Germany faithfully follow his every decision: the combination of self-assertive Länder and an ever-vigilant constitutional court in Karlsruhe effectively shackled the country’s leader and made him the villain of the piece in Amsterdam.

Kohl blocked changes to justice and home affairs procedures, dwelt at inordinate length on the principles of subsidiarity, trimmed back moves on wider majority voting and legislative powers for theEuropean Parliament and deleted EU help for elderly and disabled people (despite a treaty declaration which specifically states thatthe Union “shall take account of the needs of persons with a disability”).

The consequences of the change in priorities were plain to seein the chaotic way the summit ended at around 3.30am on the third day.

As texts flew between delegations and individual words were changed at the last minute, confusion reigned – with the result that EU governments are still unclear about what was actually agreed.

That uncertainty will have to be cleared up in a series of meetings involving diplomats, legal experts and translators in the months before the treaty is signed in Amsterdam in October.

But even then, obstacles will remain. The Treaty of Amsterdam, with its echoes of canals, bicycles and tolerant citizens, may sound more friendly than its more guttural Maastricht predecessor. But that will not make it any easier to explain to Europe’s citizens.

There are undoubtedly a number of positive elements. The increased importance given to environmental, employment and public health issues, the right of access to EU documents and the new ability to punish a member state which abuses human rights are all likely to win public support – although it remains to be seen whether fine words will translate into concrete action.

But the opaque treaty language, the confusion which is expected to emerge as the border-free Schengen Convention is gradually incorporated into the Union and the prospect of an increased range of opt-outs for individual member states through use of the new ‘flexibility’ principle will all sow confusion in the public mind.

Late last year, Kohl stirred up a hornet’s nest when he publicly mused that yet another IGC would be necessary to resolve questions which the exercise completed last week left untouched.

In the event, he has been proved right. It is a prospect which no one relishes.